


Getting Naked on Camera (NOT CLICKBAIT)

by velvetnoodle (goldfishsunglasses)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Banter, Established Relationship, M/M, Smut, YouTuber Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-05-01 08:35:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14516520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldfishsunglasses/pseuds/velvetnoodle
Summary: harry's finally convinced louis to shoot a video with him for his youtube channel - a boyfriend clothing swap, to be exact - but louis' got other ideas





	Getting Naked on Camera (NOT CLICKBAIT)

**Author's Note:**

> work inspired by [this](http://velvetnoodle.tumblr.com/post/173799158952/karukara-wardrobe-exchange) gorgeous piece of fanart!

Louis doesn’t know how he let Harry talk him into doing the bloody video, but somehow he finds himself inside on a gorgeous Saturday morning - perfect footie weather, he thinks sadly - surrounded by piles of his and Harry’s clothes. 

“This is a stupid idea,” he grumbles. “None of my stuff is going to fit you.”

“Heeey,” Harry protests, “are you calling me fat?” He’s smiling, so Louis knows he’s not actually offended, but he drops an apologetic kiss on his boyfriend's lips anyway. 

“Of course not, babe,” he says, punctuating his words with an affectionate pinch to Harry’s side, “’m just saying you’re tall. None of my jeans are even long enough for your giraffe legs.”

“I can deal with exposed ankles; It’ll add to the authenticity. Plus, it’s not like we’re going outside where people will see.”

“No, you’re just recording it and putting it on the internet,” Louis reminds him dryly.

“That’s different.” 

“How is that different? Explain to me how that’s different.”

“No.”

“Then I’m not doing it.”

“Fine,” Harry huffs, sounding annoyed now. “I’ll just find someone else to be my boyfriend for the video.”

Louis doesn’t answer, just sits there, checking out his nails while Harry stands in front of him with his hands on his hips.

“Is that what you want?” he asks. “Do you want me to ask Niall?”

“Niall would have an aneurysm if you let him wear your clothes,” Louis says, still not looking at Harry. “I really don’t think you want to have to explain that to his viewers.”

“Fine, then. I’ll ask Zayn.”

“He’ll just say no.”

“Liam.”

“You’re going to pretend to date Liam?”

“I never said I was going to  _ date  _ him; I can’t do this video alone. It’s called a swap because I’m supposed to  _ swap  _ with someone else.”

Louis rolls his eyes like he’s being asked to do something terrible, like eating raw octopus or being covered in shaving foam, instead of just trying on his boyfriend’s clothes on camera. “I don’t want you to swap clothes with Liam.”

Harry sidles up next to him, smile bright and expectant. “Is that a yes, then?”

“No, Harry, that is not a yes,” Louis snaps, cringing as it comes out harsher than he’d intended it to, but Harry doesn’t even appear phased, just goes to turn on the camera and runs back until he’s in the right position. He waves. “Hey guys!”

“ _ Hey guys _ !” Louis mocks. Harry groans, but Louis can’t help it. His reasoning is that he just sounds so  _ daft.  _ Daft and fake, two things Harry most certainly is not, thank you very much. 

“Now I’m going to have to start again,” Harry complains.

“Sorry,” Louis says, even though he’s not very sorry at all. “I promise I won’t interrupt this time.”

Harry narrows his eyes, but continues on, apparently choosing to redo his intro later. Possibly when Louis isn’t in the room. (Louis doesn’t blame him.)

“As you know, in my last video I did a tour of my closet - shut up, Lou - and a few of you—”

“All of you!” Louis calls from behind the camera.

“Okay,  _ all of you _ requested I make a video of Louis trying on some of my clothes, and since he would only agree to do it if it went both ways—” Harry says, ignoring Louis now, who won’t let that stand.

“And ate my arse!”

“Louis! Recording!”

Louis smirks. “Just pointing out the facts, love.”

“You mean giving me more work. It’s going to take ages to edit out your commentary.”

Harry pulls his shirt off then - before Louis can come up with a witty retort - and he’s forced to pretend like he isn’t staring (but definitely not drooling) as the laurels make an appearance, then the butterfly, and finally the birds that adorn his boyfriend’s chest. He wonders if Harry forgot about the hickey Louis left next to the right one last night, or if he just doesn’t care, but Louis’ not going to point it out. It’ll be fun to see how long it takes Harry to realise. Maybe he’ll even post the video with it on display like the dirty exhibitionist he is. (Except maybe not, as his audience mostly consists of teenage girls.)

“Love?”

Harry drops his shirt on the floor behind him. “What’s up?”

Louis wordlessly points to Harry’s chest, who looks down and groans when he realises. “I’ll have to edit that out. And make sure to keep that hidden.”

“I told you this video was a bad idea,” Louis snickers. “You really need to learn to listen to me.”

“It’s not my fault,” Harry says. “You’re the one who just had to do a bloody hoover impression on my chest.”

“You weren’t complaining last night.”

Harry blushes prettily. “I was a bit preoccupied.”

“Yeah, you were,” he teases.

“You’re a menace.”

Louis grins at the compliment, and then frowns at the hat Harry tosses his way. 

“Do I actually have to put this on my head?”

“Of course you have to wear the hat. It completes the outfit.”

“It does  _ not _ complete the outfit.”

“Lou, put on the hat.”

“No.”

“Lo-u-is,” Harry whines. “Please?”

“No.”

“Pretty please?”

“Nope,” Louis says, popping the p.

“Not even if I blow you after we finish shooting?"

Louis raises an eyebrow. “It’s a really ugly hat.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Fine, what if I…” he leans forward, lips against Louis’ ear as he describes - in extremely graphic detail - exactly what he’ll do to Louis, who goes bright red. He clears his throat a few times, which has gone uncomfortably dry. “Yep,” he squeaks, wincing at how worked up he is, “you’ve managed to convince me.”

Harry takes a step back, looking extremely pleased with himself, and Louis kind of wants to wipe that look off his face. He doesn’t, but he does glare, trying his hardest not to make it seems like he’s losing this fight.

“I don’t get why it’s such a big deal,” Harry says. “You steal my clothes all the time.”

“I  _ borrow _ normal things. Like t-shirts. And jumpers. Not…” He picks up the hat and curls his lip. “This.”

Harry snatches the offending hat from Louis’ fingers, and places it on his head. “You’re messing up me hair!” Louis squawks, and Harry just laughs that stupid honking laugh that makes Louis want to pinch him. So he does. With less affection this time. Harry doesn’t even react - half because Louis does it often, and half because he enjoys the pain - so Louis does it again, hard enough to make Harry yelp. 

He flinches when Harry punches him in the arm. “What the fuck?”

“You pinched me,” Harry points out. “You can’t expect me not to retaliate.”

“Well you didn’t have to fucking come at me with your bloody…  _ boxing arms _ .”

“My boxing arms?” Harry sounds amused, and Louis sticks out his tongue childishly.

“You know what I mean.”

“Unfortunately, I do. And fine, you can just wear a different outfit.”

“Why can’t I just wear this one?”

“Because you refuse the wear the hat.”

“I didn’t know the bloody hat was so important to the bloody outfit,” Louis mutters, only to find himself being entangled into a pair of long arms. 

“I promise you’ll like the next one,” Harry assures him. 

“You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep,” he sniffs, but strips anyway and waits for the next bunch of clothing to be handed to him. This time it’s only jeans and a white t-shirt, which isn’t too bad, he might actually like this one, might - wait, nope. This one comes with a long coat. Louis hates a long coat. 

This time he doesn’t complain as he gets dressed, at least not yet. Harry looks happy at this development, and Louis shouldn’t be so eager to jump at the chance to wipe the look off his face, but the coat is too long. 

He knew it would be too long, obviously, but it’s even worse than he’d expected. “I look like a fucking pirate.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I do,” Louis argues, “all I need is an eyepatch and parrot on me shoulder and I’m Captain Louis.”

“You’re being melodramatic.”

He puts his hands on his hips. “I am not. I am reacting the perfect amount to the fact that this was all a ploy for you to indulge your pirate kink.”

Harry makes a noise like he’s choking on air, and Louis has to literally bite his tongue to keep from breaking character.

“You thin— You really think… You think I have a pirate kink?”

“I wouldn’t put it past you,” Louis sniffs.

“Okay, first? We’ve been together for four years; if I had a pirate kink you’d have found it out before today. And second, why would I choose  _ now  _ to bring up said kink?”

“I’m not going to pretend I know how your brain works, Harold.” 

Harry sighs. “C’mon, Lou. You haven’t even put the boots on.”

“There’s boots?”

“Of course there’s boots, you twat. You knew there were going to be boots.”

“I did not know there would be boots; this isn’t doing much to change my mind about the pirate kink thing, y’know,” Louis informs him, and when he gets no response from Harry he reluctantly pulls on the offending footwear. When he stands up, he frowns and pretends to slip. “They’re too big.” (Okay, so maybe he is hamming it up a bit for the camera. Sue him.) 

“Don’t tell me,” Harry laughs, “tell the viewers.”

He turns to face the camera, and pulls the most put-upon face he can manage without a mirror. “Harry’s forcing me to wear his giant shoes. I’m going to  _ fall and injure myself _ just so he can make this video for you guys.”

“Lou.” Harry sounds concerned. “You’re not actually going to do that, right?”

“Do what?”

“Injure yourself on camera.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” (Of course he won’t; it’s just fun to see Harry squirm.)

“Hmm.” Harry chews on his lip as he looks Louis over - while very rudely ignoring Louis’ (albeit made-up) predicament. “You’re missing something.”

“What?” Louis asks, but he knows the answer as soon as Harry reaches up and takes his own hair out of its bun. His curls fall to his shoulders, and Louis is distracted long enough to not notice Harry’s crept up behind him, until he feels his boyfriend’s long fingers carding through his hair, pulling it up and wrapping the hair band around it to make a bun. A much smaller bun, considering Louis’ got less hair, but still enough of a man-bun to make Louis feel like a tit. 

“I feel like a tit,” he says, and Harry just laughs, the wanker.

“If it helps, I think you look good.”

“You have to think that,” Louis points out. “You’re my boyfriend.”

"Says who?”

Louis tugs at the hairband, not used to the odd pull on his scalp. “Who says you’re my boyfriend?”

“No, who says I have to think that?”

“Oh.” Louis lets his hand drop, because taking his hair down is pointless, as Harry would most likely put it back up again.  Me,” he says.

“Oh, do you?”

“I do.”

“Mmm,” Harry replies, obviously done with the topic as his gaze zeroes in on Louis’ shoulders. Or his ears. Well, somewhere in between, really. “I like your hair this length.”

Louis blushes, even though it’s not the first time Harry’s told him this. “Yeah, well, don’t expect me to grow it out as long as yours.”

“I don’t think I’d like that very much,” Harry says, wrinkling his nose, “besides, this is the perfect length to…” He reaches behind Louis’ head and takes down the bloody bun himself, threading his fingers in Louis’ hair and tugging him down so he can press a kiss to Louis’ surprised lips. “To do that.” He kisses Louis again, once, twice, three times, and whispers, “I really like how you look in my clothes.”

Louis’ stomach swoops dangerously at the compliment, and his voice is husky when he raises what he hopes is a challenging eyebrow and asks, “Yeah? What’re you gonna do about it?”

“Nothing. We’re meant to be filming.”

Louis can’t help pouting at Harry’s back, and starts formulating his plot for revenge. He smirks, and waits patiently, watching as Harry begins to search for his shoes. He starts to put one on and wrinkles his brow.

“Wait,” he says slowly, obviously confused. “I thought we wore the same size shoes.”

Louis freezes. “We do.”

Harry attempts to shove his foot into Louis’ left Van and fails. “Do we?” he asks, still confused and watching with wide eyes as Louis sits down on the bed, guiding Harry forward by the hips and blinking up at him innocently.

“What are you doing?”

Louis doesn’t answer as he hooks his thumbs in the waistband of Harry’s - well, his - joggers and slowly works them down Harry’s thighs. He moves forward and kisses the tiger tattoo on Harry’s thigh, relishing in the moan he gets in response as he traces the outline with the tip of his tongue.

He lets his hands slide from Harry’s hips to his bum. Harry jerks forward, nearly whacking Louis in the face with his cock. “Oi!” he chastises, “be careful with that thing.”

Harry’s apology is cut off as Louis takes the tip of his cock between his lips, sucking lightly and digging his fingers into the flesh of Harry’s arse.  They’re still in the shot, but Louis isn’t thinking about that right now, not when he’s concentrating on breathing through his nose as he takes Harry deeper, pulling off when it gets to be too much.

Harry’s thighs are shaking like he’s close to losing it right then, eventually shoving at Louis’ shoulders until he’s lying flat on the bed, apparently realising his mistake when it becomes obvious that it’ll be difficult to get Louis’ - Harry’s - jeans off. Harry doesn’t let that deter him for too long, however, and Louis huffs as Harry scrambles to undo the button and zip. 

“I thought you were filming a video,” he says, and he really shouldn’t taunt Harry when he’s so close to getting his mouth on Louis, but Louis can’t help it. 

Harry pauses, lips just brushing the head of Louis’ cock. “I’m just taking a break.”

“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”

“Be quiet and let me blow you.”

“Go ahead,” he says, and leans back to watch as Harry crawls up the bed until he’s next to Louis, pecking him on the lips briefly before closing his eyes. Louis knows orgasms always make him sleepy and especially cuddly, and while he should feel guilty that he’s given Harry more work to do, he can’t find it in himself to care as Harry burrows deeper against his side, mumbling something about overly seductive boyfriends and failed video ideas before finally going still and quiet.

* * *

When they wake up a few hours later, Harry informs him that they won’t be making any videos together for a while.

(Which, as he’ll later come to find out, was Louis’ plan all along.)

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> [click here to reblog on tumblr!](http://velvetnoodle.tumblr.com/post/173523328922/getting-naked-on-camera-not-clickbait-harrys)


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